New Year's Eve
by shotofvanilla
Summary: New Years: a time for taking chances, renewed promises, and new resolutions. Follow Blaine, Kurt, Rachel, Quinn, and the rest of the New Directions around New York as they attempt to ring in the new year memorably. M for smut.
1. Prologue

**I hope that you all had a fantastic holiday season, whatever it may be that you celebrate. In preparation for the New Year, I present you with this fic.**

**So this was semi-inspired by the movie **_**New Year's Eve **_**(and those romantic comedies like it). The M rating is really only for this first chapter. The rest of the story hovers between K+ and T. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or am affiliated with any of the places mentions (and yes, all these places exist. I took great time to look these things up on Google). **

_Day: New Year's Eve.  
>Location: The Plaza Hotel.<br>Time: 11:30 PM_

Artie sighed, watching his lead performer announce his retirement from the recording studio, spinning some tale about needing time off to start a family before launching into what would be his final performance under _Fresh Beatz Records_.

"It had to be done, you know," a voice said next to him.

"I know," he told Tina. "I'm honest to god happy we won't have Sebastian fucking Smythe representing our records anymore, seriously."

"But," the Asian girl prompted.

"But it's going to be rough, you know? Finding a new face for the record."

Tina looked thoughtful. "Well, there's always Anderson."

"The one I just signed?" Artie said in a scandalized voice. Still, he chewed on it a bit, starting to see where Tina was coming from.

"Why not?"

Tina sat her now-empty champagne glass on the table near them.

"He's cute, sings well, and, as far as we know, has a clean track record, unlike Mr. Hotshot over there."

"I like the way you think, Ms. Cohen-Chang."

Tina smirked. "Well that _is _why you hired me."

Artie was about to respond when an arm curled around Tina's waist, yanking her slightly. She squealed loudly before turning and hitting the person who did it.

"Mike!" she yelled, but a smile played on her features.

Mike pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. He pressed a clenched fist against Artie's, acknowledging each other's presence

"Hope you don't mind if I take my beautiful girlfriend to the dance floor, Artie?"

Artie shook his head, smiling as the pair made their way to the floor. He leaned back in his wheelchair, turning his attention to the stage in front of him, where Sebastian was still performing to the unsuspecting crowd. A glare was exchanged between the two for a fleeting moment, until Sebastian returned to performing. Artie pondered for a few minutes, trying to imagine another person on the stage.

He then wheeled himself out of the room as he pulled out his cell phone. He had a few messages to leave.

* * *

><p>Several dances later, Mike and Tina stood outside on the balcony, surveying the streets below them that had lit up in celebration.<p>

"It's so nice out here," Tina commented, leaning her head against Mike's shoulder.

"I love you," Mike looked down at her. He was so caught up in the moment that the words spilled out of him faster than he could handle. "I want to marry you someday."

The smile that lit up Tina's face stopped Mike from internally freaking out.

"Hm, that's nice." She leaned forward slightly. "I love you too. Kiss me?"

"It isn't midnight yet," Mike teased, chuckling.

A hand reached up to cup his face.

"Doesn't matter," Tina said, pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

* * *

><p><em>Location: A bar; 55 Little West 12th Street; Brass Monkey<em>

"Man, I just can't believe I was shot down _again_," Puck said as he downed the last of his beer.

"Relax, dude," Sam said, taking a swig of his own drink. "It was your third time trying to get signed. It'll happen."

Puck rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," he grumbled as he ordered another drink, "so what about you?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know what you mean. Job's good, money's good, life's good."

Puck elbowed him in the side. "You _know_ what I mean. I haven't heard you brag about any conquests lately. Are the ladies not digging the 'pretty boy' look anymore?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Believe me; they want in when they see the abs." He shrugged again, "I don't know, man. I think I'm starting to want like… a _real_ relationship."

"Dude, when was the last time you even had this 'real relationship'?" Puck scoffed.

Sam fidgeted a little.

"I don't know, maybe a few years ago? I don't remember much about her; only that she was dark-skinned and independent."

It was a lie if he ever told one. He remembered a lot more about a certain Ms. Jones than he ever wanted to let on.

"But I don't know, man. It just… felt different. Better, at least, than what I do now."

Puck took a sip at his drink, surprised but not saying so, "whatever floats your boat."

The two sat in silence for a while, casually drinking their beers.

"You know," Sam said after a while. "We should make resolutions, or something."

Puck began to side-eye the man.

"You mean like, promises for the new year?"

Sam nodded, and Puck scoffed. "Sorry, but the Puckermans don't do promises. Those are meant for breaking."

Sam smirked, leaning his glass out towards the other man in a toast. "Then make one to not getting a girlfriend."

Puck smiled, catching on and clinking his glass to Sam's. "And to not getting a real job _that I actually want_."

The two drank to it, enjoying their companionship as they listened to the New Year's Eve coverage from Time Square on their small, but very clear TV.

* * *

><p><em>Location: The Apartment of Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray<em>

Rachel and Quinn lay in the bed together, snuggling and gaining warmth from each other. They had decided to spend the last couple hours of the year together, making love before they could allow the alcohol to _completely_ take over their systems. That being said, they were both still slightly drunk, leading to the sweet whispered nothings in each other's ears.

Rachel lay on Quinn chest, burrowing into her collarbone as Quinn continued to stroke her dark hair.

"I love you," she muttered drowsily.

Quinn smiled, settling deeper into the pillows behind them. "I love you too."

"Hm…" Rachel mumbled, cuddling closer to Quinn, "what do you want this year?" she asked, placing small chaste kisses near Quinn's throat.

"Anything you want, Quinn, okay?"

Quinn made a small sound of contentment in the back of her throat.

"Anything?" she asked softly.

Rachel nodded, her hair tickling the side of Quinn's face.

"I just want you to be happy, Quinn. I know this year has been a bit difficult for you, so…"

"Kids," Quinn murmured in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Kids?" Rachel said, sounding surprised but not at all upset. She was slipping more and more towards unconsciousness with every passing moment.

"Mmhm."

Quinn kept stroking Rachel's hair, the motion lulling Rachel to sleep faster and faster.

"Whatever you want," Rachel said, falling asleep only moments later.

A grin slowly spread across Quinn's face and she quickly fell asleep as well.

* * *

><p><em>Location: The Apartment of Brittany Pierce<em>

Brittany arched against her own hand, the other clutching the phone beside her ear as she continued to stimulate her clit.

"Oh, _Santana_," she mumbled into the phone as she neared her climax, circling the nub faster and alternating with hard flicks.

"_That's it honey_," Santana panted into the phone and Brittany groaned as she pictured her doing the same thing to herself on the other line.

Brittany closed her eyes, imagining that it was Santana on the bed with her and Santana's hand instead of hers, or better yet, Santana's _mouth_ instead of her lone hand. The memories of past pleasure surfaced in her mind and her hips bucked again.

"Fuck, I'm close." She arched again, rubbing faster, harder, just like she knew Santana would if she were there.

"_Just let go, Britt," _Santana all but purred into her ear. _"Just let go."_

Brittany's hips bucked once more before she climaxed, a long moan escaping her mouth and into the phone by her ear. She heard the string of curses from Santana's side as she came as well. Brittany closed her eyes again, picturing Santana laying there in her Chicago apartment. It was so far, but she was still thinking of her and panting because of her, _coming_ because of her.

Both of them lay there for a few moments, regaining their breath. Finally, Brittany curled under the covers, drawing a pillow near to her and cuddling it.

"I miss you," she murmured, her voice almost muffled by the pillow.

Santana sighed. "_I miss you too_."

"How's Chicago?"

She could almost hear Santana shrug through the line.

"_It's alright. Nothing beats New York though_."

"I wish you could come and visit more often."

_"I do too, honey, but you know this branch just opened a year ago and I _can't _leave them now-" _

Brittany sighed. "I know. I know. That doesn't mean I miss you any less though."

_"I promise; I'll try and make it up there more often_ _this year._"

"Really?" Brittany said hopefully.

"_Really. I mean, the phone sex is great and all, but nothing's like the real thing, you know?" _Santana teased.

Brittany giggled a little, clutching the pillow tighter. "I know." She yawned tiredly.

"_You should try and get some sleep, Britt Britt,"_ Santana said concernedly. "_It's almost midnight there, isn't it? Plus you had a long day at the studio, holding a dress rehearsal for the dancers tonight-"_

"No!" Brittany interjected quickly. "I mean- I just want to keep talking to you, okay?"

Santana paused for a moment. "_Okay," _she agreed.

"It just-it's still hard to sleep, when you're not around, you know?"

Santana sighed again. "_Believe me, honey. _I know."

* * *

><p><em>Location: A Random Roof Party<em>

_10... 9… 8… 7… 6…_

Blaine chanted with everyone else on the roof as they watched the lit ball descend in the distance, marking the end of the year. He was more than pleasantly buzzed; not drunk off his feet, like some he could mention, but enough that he failed to notice how most people were coupling up with each other, getting ready to share a famous "New Year's Kiss." He did notice, however, a pale, slender man just moving past him, probably towards the maintenance elevator he was next to.

_5… 4… 3… 2… 1… HAPPY NEW YEARS!_

Blaine laughed and cheered as the speakers from Time Square and the television monitor someone had set up began blaring "Auld Lang Syne". Couples around him began kissing and, not wanting to be left out, he grabbed one of the closest people to him, his drunken mind figuring that it _was _in the spirit on New Year and therefore would not be awkward if he didn't know the person.

What his drunken mind did not predict was the man he was kissing and _yes _it registered in his mind that this _was _a man, kissing him back with just as much passion, wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck. The taste of alcohol lingering on both of their lips was probably to blame for their actions, but neither one really cared as they both pulled back in surprise.

They met each other's gaze, still wrapped up in each other and the only thing Blaine could really see were _blue, blue_ eyes that he felt himself falling into. Something unspoken passed between them and they soon met in another passionate kiss, Blaine backing the other man up against wall next to the elevator. The other man managed to work his tongue into Blaine's mouth and was boldly tracing his way around as he tugged Blaine's body closer to him, curling one hand into his hair and the other behind him, pressing the elevator button on the wall. He ran his tongue against the back of Blaine's teeth, swallowing his moan.

The elevator dinged open next to them, and they broke apart in order to concentrate making it into the elevator and closing the metal grate. Everyone else at the party was too distracted. Either by the party itself or by their significant other to watch as the two men stole away into the elevator. Blaine had just pushed his floor number when the other man pressed him up against the side, undoing some of the buttons of his shirt so as to better assault his neck, both hands then gripped his waist. Blaine tipped his head back, panting as the man kissed up to his ear and down to his collarbone, moving his shirt and jacket aside to nip at the skin there, leaving a small mark.

Blaine locked his arms around the man's hips, spreading his legs slightly so the taller man could stand between them. Their mouths met in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss, tainted by the bitter taste of alcohol. Their growing erections met when their bodies were pressed up against each other and they both moaned at the sensation. Blaine's back arched off of the back of the wall as the stranger grinded down on him, creating more friction. The elevator was thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat as the two of them continued to rut against each other.

The other man stopped for a moment and Blaine whined at the lost until he felt a hand palming him through his dark grey jeans. He bucked his hips as he met the man's eyes, which were twinkling mischievously as his face lit up in a smirk. Blaine used the expensive looking scarf hanging around the man's neck to tug his face back to him, nipping at his bottom lip as the man rubbed him through his pants. He snaked a hand around the man, squeezing his ass, causing the stranger to let out a high-pitched moan; a sound that went straight to Blaine's crotch.

The elevator dinged open and some part of Blaine's mind was thankful that there was no one waiting to use the elevator. Blaine slipped around the man to open the grate, thrusting backwards when he felt the other man press his erection into Blaine's ass. They stumbled out of the elevator, drunk off of the alcohol in their systems and the ache in both of their pants. Blaine struggled to concentrate on getting to his apartment, which the stranger made difficult by pressing small kisses on his neck whenever he could.

Despite the constant distraction, Blaine somehow managed to direct them to his apartment, fumbling with the keys as the man pressed in close behind him. He arched when the stranger cupped him through his jeans, cursing when he nearly dropped the keys. The man chuckled lightly and Blaine's head whipped around to glare at him as he pushed open the apartment door.

They both kicked their shoes off before Blaine had the man pinned against the wall, not bothering to turn on the light. He managed to rid of the man's scarf and hat, tangling his fingers in the man's copper-colored hair, before being pushed away roughly. He pulled back in surprise, looking concernedly at the stranger. The other man stared back at him with lust-filled eyes, panting as his fingers shakily undid Blaine's jacket and shirt.

"B-bed," he whispered.

Blaine nodded quickly, shrugging out of his shirt and jacket before pushing the other man's shirt off. He reached beneath him, hoisting the man up so he could wrap his legs around his waist. They both moaned as their bare chests rubbed against each other, slick with sweat. They continued kissing as Blaine began walking towards the bedroom.

Blaine was thoroughly surprised at his own coordination when he managed to maneuver them to the bedroom. The passion of the situation cut through some of the fog of alcohol as he placed the man down near the bed. Delicate fingers ghosted down his chest, causing him to shiver as they passed over his nipples and down to his belt, which was undone and quickly followed by his pants. His own hands struggled with the complicated zippers and buckles on the other man.

"I will rip these things off of you," Blaine muttered against the man's lips, giving up on the pants.

"You wouldn't dare," the man murmured back, making quick work of his pants.

Blaine's response was cut off as the man grabbed his hips and pulled him closer, their erections rubbing through only two thin layers of fabric. He felt himself being dragged forward, until the stranger's legs hit the back of the bed and he was pulled down on top of him.

They kissed hungrily for a few minutes, delving their tongues into each other mouths. Blaine leaned out to start pressing kisses down the man's throat and body. His tongue snaked out to trace the man's nipples, smiling when he felt his back arch off of the bed. He continued moving down until he was near the waistband of the man's briefs.

He sucked a hickey onto his hip, smiling when he saw it start to bruise purple in the moonlight seeping in through the glass-stained window. He kissed above the waistband, hearing the other man groan in frustration as he neared his erection, which was straining against his underwear. He then began mouthing the man's cock through his underwear, teasingly slipping his fingers just under the elastic. Fingers curled themselves into his hair and pulled, sending shocks of pleasure to his own cock. The man above him moaned loudly, stuttering out half- fragmented curses.

Blaine finally removed the man's underwear, taking his own off quickly after he did. He licked the underside of his cock before stretching his lips around the head of it, moaning at the taste of the pre-come that had gathered there. He felt the fingers tighten in his hair to a point where it was nearly painful and it wasn't long until the man tugged him upward. He crawled up again, kissing the man deeply as he ground his hips down. The stranger reached a hand down, wrapping it around both of their erections and stroking them simultaneously.

"Fuck me," he whispered when they parted briefly for air.

"Are you sure?" Blaine asked; his voice rough and husky. He was already clumsily moving towards his nightstand, rifling around before he pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom.

"I'm sure," the man said, squeezing their erections for emphasis.

He placed his feet flat on the bed, drawing his knees up as he spread his legs and licked the shell of Blaine's ear, blowing hot air into it as he ran his fingers through his sweaty curls.

Blaine braced one arm on the bed after slicking his fingers up with probably too much lube. He attached his mouth to the side of the other man's neck, sucking another mark as he pushed a finger into his puckered entrance. The man arched off the bed with a moan, pushing back against the intrusion.

Blaine watched him, sliding his finger in and out as the two of them found a matching pace, soon adding another finger. He scissored them, stretching the man wider and he began crooking his fingers, searching for that magic spot. The man on the bed keened and arched his hips up when Blaine's fingers brushed his prostrate and Blaine added another finger, curling them the same way so as to hit the man's prostrate every time.

The stranger let out a long moan, stroking himself as Blaine continued to thrust his fingers in.

"More," he panted out, his breathing ragged.

Blaine nodded, removing his fingers to roll the condom onto his own cock and rubbing the remaining lube on it. One hand gripped the man's waist as the other supported himself on the bed and he slowly pressed into the man, until he was completely buried inside.

"_Fuck_," Blaine swore, feeling the man clench around him. "You're so tight and-"

"_Move_," the stranger groaned out, stroking his cock faster and squeezing around Blaine.

Blaine began thrusting, hard and fast. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping skin and half-stuttered curse words mixed in with the moans from both men. Blaine moved the hand that was on the man's hip to his hair, tugging him upward as he leaned down slightly, kissing hungrily. His thrusts grew slightly irregular, but neither cared as they both neared the edge.

"Fuck _oh_ right there, harder, harder," the man groaned as Blaine continued to pound into him. "Oh shit, _oh_."

He came with a stuttered gasp that led to a long moan, his hand stroking himself as come splattered on his stomach. His walls clenched tightly around Blaine, who quickened his pace and followed not long after; a string of unintelligible curses escaping his mouth.

Blaine pulled out, taking off the condom as he ducked his head, licking at some of the come on the man's stomach, whimpering at the taste. He collapsed beside the man, who was fumbling with the nightstand beside him. He pulled a few tissues out of the box there to clean himself off. Blaine threw the condom in the wastebasket on the other side of the bed, panting from exertion. The stranger leaned over him to throwing the soiled tissues away.

A soft hand cupped Blaine's face and lips caught his in a surprisingly gentle kiss, given what had just transpired between the two. They lay there like that for a while, not speaking, but kissing slowly, as if trying to memorize each other. They were sweet kisses, no teeth or sucking and barely any tongue, aside from the light brushing against each other's lips.

Blaine found parts of himself wishing that he would get to know the man, possibly learn to love him one day, but the rational side of him tried to remind him that they hadn't even exchanged names. It was just a casual fuck, brought on from the spirit of New Years and of the alcohol in both of their systems, something he'd probably regret come morning. Blaine quieted that side of him and concentrated on the blue eyed, slender man above him, not knowing he'd be gone by morning.

**It was my first time writing any form of femslash, so I hope it was alright. **

**I also hope that you ignore the great imbalance between the Klaine part and everyone else. It was originally just supposed to be a Klaine fic, but it kind of evolved into much more. It's pretty well-balanced for the rest of the story though.**

**Tumblr: icyhands-starlighteyes**

**Reviews are love.**


	2. One Year Later

**Should all go well, this will have daily updates. I only have the last chapter to write, and that should be up by New Year's Eve. I planned this, you see?**

**Disclaimer: As said before, I own nothing but the plot (kinda). **

_One year later. _

_Location: A coffee shop; 711 Amsterdam Avenue; Caff__é__ Mocias. _

_Time: Midday_

"Okay, so read me what the note says again?"

Blaine Anderson sighed, pulling the well-worn note from his wallet and reciting the nearly memorized message; written in a flawless cursive.

"_'Dear Blaine_,'" he paused, glancing up at his companion, who urged him to continue. She closed her eyes in concentration.

"'_I understand that you are at a bit of a disadvantage here, seeing as how I know at least your name and you don't know mine, although that really isn't my fault. Your name was printed on the paper I found and wrote on_' and then there's a small happy face next to it," he described.

He took a deep breath and continued on. "_For reasons that will be further explained, I'd like to keep it that way_. _Last night was, to me anyways, amazing in so many different ways, and I hope we can agree on that, because I'd like to see you again someday. The ball's in your court. If you didn't feel anything last night, feel free to throw this note away, forget about last night, and move on with your life. But if you did, what would you say to coffee date? One year from now, that coffee shop on West 20__th__, midnight_

"That's it? No name, no number, nothing?"

"That's it," he said with a shrug, folding the letter back into his wallet.

Rachel Berry stared hard at her brother, trying to figure what his problem was. He met her stare for a while, and then looked away, rubbing his arms uncomfortably.

"What, Rachel?"

"I'm sorry, Blaine. I just... don't really see what the problem is." He took a sip from the drink in front of him as she spoke.

"What do you mean you don't see the problem? How am I supposed to decide whether or not to deal with this?"

"Well he stated pretty clearly in his note. If you felt something that night, go. If not, then don't. I can't really help you here."

"But how am I supposed to know whether or not I felt something?" Blaine asked incredulously. "It was a year ago, it was New Year's Eve, and we were drunk."

Rachel shrugged sympathetically at her brother. "I don't know, Blaine. But I think the fact that you still kept the letter after a year means something."

They sat in silence for a while as Blaine thought that over. Finally he shrugged. "I don't know. I probably can't even make it. Artie wants me to perform at the party he hosts every year for the record company."

"That's great," Rachel said enthusiastically, trying to get Blaine to forget about his problem for a little while. "It'll be great promotion for your album next year."

"Yeah you're right. It will be," he smiled happily for a bit. "So how are you and Quinn?"

Rachel felt the smile drop off her face at the mention of her partner. "Not necessarily good," she answered. "We had a huge fight this morning."

_Flashback_

_ Rachel pinned Quinn against the wall, pressing light kisses up her pale throat as the blonde made a small whimpering noise._

_ "Rachel," she sighed. "I have to go to work soon."_

_ "I just don't understand why you have to work today," Rachel pouted, but stepped away obediently. _

_ Quinn chuckled and smoothed out her dress. "You know the fashion industry." She began packing things into her over-sized work bag._

_ Rachel sighed again. "I just want to spend all the time I have with you, especially since we won't be able to soon."_

_ Quinn paused. "What do you mean?" she said conversationally._

_ "Well now that I'm going to go to Chicago soon, to work on an off-Broadway production of _Rent _in February." Quinn turned to stare at her in disbelief. _

_ "What?"_

_ Rachel met her stare confusedly. "Yeah, remember? I got offered it a few weeks ago. I leave the second-to-last weekend of January."_

_ Quinn stopped packing her work bag and dropped a few folders on the coffee table of their apartment. "No you didn't tell me anything, Rachel."_

_ The other girl stopped to think back to the day she got the part. She had rushed home excitedly to tell Quinn and talk about it, met her at the door and kissed passionately and… oh. Rachel looked down in embarrassment. _

_ "Well there's nothing we can do about it," she said uneasily. "I already said yes."_

_ "God, Rachel," Quinn sighed angrily. "This is so you. You think that you can just waltz in here and dump whatever news on me and take off and everything will be just fine."_

_ "Look I'm sorry! I just… forgot to tell you."_

_ Quinn laughed bitterly. "Forgot? I live with you Rachel. I have for two years now. If you're forgetting to tell me things now, what's it going to be like when you're in Chicago, for god's sake."_

_ "Why are you getting so worked up about this?" Rachel asked as her voice rose in pitch and volume, "it'll only be for six or seven months maybe. I can come home on the weekends and everything."_

_ "Maybe I'm just tired of doing whatever it is you want to do," Quinn answered. "I dropped my scholarship to Yale to come be with you. I quit my old job and moved in with you because it was easier for you whenever you had to travel out of town for work. Maybe I just want us to do something _I_ want to do."_

_ "Please, Quinn," Rachel begged desperately, moving closer to take Quinn's hands. "What do you want to do? I promise Quinn; anything you want to do. Just say the word and we can do it."_

_ Quinn stared at her, long and hard, moving away slightly and pulling her hands out of her grasp. Rachel tried to follow her, but she held up a hand to stop her. Quinn turned her face away, eyes burning with unshed tears. She mumbled something softly, her voice choked with a bit of emotion._

_ "What did you say?" Rachel asked straining to her._

_ "I said, 'I want kids,'" Quinn said, sniffling a little as she brought up a topic that hadn't been touched upon since the year before. Rachel's eyes widened as she reeled back in shock._

_ "K-kids?" She barely remembered the conversation, only the cuddling and the warmth before the long sleep._

_ "Yeah," Quinn said. "I was going to come home and talk to you about it today; maybe we could make it one of our resolutions or goals or something. I-I just miss Beth. I want to be a mother, Rachel, but I guess not this year, if you're going to Chicago or whatever."_

_ Rachel was still in shock, voice cracking as she spoke. "I-I thought that we-we decided that it wasn't the right time. That it was too much… commitment."_

_ Quinn's eyes flashed to hers, burning with anger again. "Well now I think we're ready, Rachel. God, we've been in this relationship for almost seven years now. If that's 'too much commitment' for you, I don't know why _we're_ even trying." _

_ Tears threatened to spill on both sides as Quinn shouldered her bag, moving towards the door. "I'm going to be late for work. I don't know what time I'll be home or anything. I- I need some time to think."_

_ "Wait, Quinn," Rachel tried, but their apartment door already slammed shut. The two of them had never spent a New Years apart since they had gotten together. A broken sob escaped her mouth and a few tears slid down her cheeks before she headed for the shower to get ready for her day._

_End Flashback_

"She stormed out of the apartment when she left. This might be our first New Years apart," Rachel told Blaine, her mind replaying the last few minutes of their fight over and over again. Blaine took her hand comfortingly, rubbing circles onto the back of it.

"You guys will be okay," he said softly, "you're always okay."

Rachel nodded, but her eyes were still sad. "I'm just worried, but I'll give her the space she needs tonight. She's stressed about work anyways."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Blaine let go of her hand and resumed drinking his coffee, "why do they have work today?"

Rachel shrugged as she explained. "I'm not quite sure. I think the company has to do something for a New Year's party tonight…"

* * *

><p><em>Location: Blackbird Designs; the offices of Kurt Hummel<em>

"Kurt, here's your mocha and a final copy of all the performers who needed dresses to change into after their costumes," Quinn placed the cup on her boss's desk and held out a slip of paper which was still hot from the printer.

Kurt took a deep sip of the coffee, rubbing his tired eyes as he quickly scanned the document. "Fine, fine," he said, giving his assistant the paper back. "Just make sure the company is billed accordingly, and then could you double check down in the fitting rooms to make sure everyone's dress is working out and all?" Quinn nodded as she went to exit his office.

"And by the way, Q" Kurt interjected before she left. "I'm sorry about making you work today. But it was a big deal that we signed with _Fresh Beatz_, supplying some of their performers with costumes and dresses."

Quinn shrugged good-naturedly. "It's fine; don't worry about it. Anyways," she shifted uncomfortably. "I'm glad for the distraction today."

Kurt quirked an eyebrow. "New Year's issues?" he asked, not wanting to pry if Quinn didn't want to talk about it. The two of them were close, closer than most assistant-boss relationships, but they didn't necessarily tell each other everything.

Quinn waved the question off. "Just some relationship issues. You know how Rachel gets sometimes," she chuckled, but it sounded fake to Kurt's ears. Nevertheless, he smiled encouragingly at her.

"I'm sure you'll work it out. Oh, excuse me," he said as his personal cell began to ring. Quinn exited the office with a little wave, leaving Kurt to his call.

"Hello?" he leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a minute.

_"Hi, Kurt_," one of his best friends answered.

"Mercedes!" Kurt exclaimed enthusiastically. "How's California? You never have time to call anymore. Being a food critic keeping you busy?"

"_Ugh, you have no idea_." Kurt laughed with her, happy to hear her voice.

"So what brings Ms. Jones a-calling this fine New Year's Eve morning?"

"_Um…I'm in New York right now! It was really last minute and all so…"_

"What? Why didn't you tell me? We could've hung out and all."

_"I'm sorry boo. Like I said, last minute. I had just gotten in last weekend, and was working on the jet lag."_

"Mmhm," Kurt said, swiveling in his chair a little. "So do you have time to grab lunch or something soon?"

_"Maybe after New Year's" _Mercedes answered. "_I kind of need a favor right now."_

"I know that tone, 'Cedes. What do you need?" Kurt sighed.

_"A dress? I got invited to Artie Abrams party tonight, but my dress tore in the luggage. Please, Kurt?"_

Kurt sighed overdramatically, but nodded, before remembering that she couldn't see him. "Sure. Swing by a little later, and I'll see have we have in the vault."

"_Thank you _so_ much Kurt. You have no idea how much this means to me."_

"Hoping to snag a New Year's kiss?" Kurt teased.

_"What about you, huh? I haven't heard much on your relationship front."_

Kurt's mind drifted, a slow smile creeping on his face. "I have plans," he said nonchalantly. "I'll see you later, 'kay?" Another assistant was gently knocking on the door, probably about the night's plans. "You owe me, 'Cedes. I expect to be treated to all the fancy restaurants next time I visit you."

"_Anything, boo. Thanks again. I'll see you later!"_

Kurt mumbled a goodbye, waving the assistant in. He gave her a few instructions before sending her on her way. His cell rang again as she left and he hurried to pick it up.

"Hello?"

"_Hi, Kurt it's me and I need your help."_

"Well happy New Year's to you too, Finn."

**Tumblr: mikechangappreciationlife**

**Reviews are like love. **


	3. A Couple Bars, A Couple Problems

_Location: A dress vault within Blackbird Designs_

"This. Is. Perfect." Kurt murmured as Mercedes posed in front of him, decked out in a gorgeous black dress with electric blue accents around the waist and skirt.

"You think so?" she asked, smiling at her reflection and fixing her hair.

Kurt nodded enthusiastically. "I have really outdone myself this time. Lucky I still had it here, weren't we? I was about to ship it to you as a birthday gift."

Mercedes went back into the dressing room to change. "How much do I owe you, Kurt?" she called from behind the curtain.

"Hm? Oh nothing! It was going to be a gift anyways, remember?" Kurt said, looking up from where he was having a vicious texting argument with Finn. "Do you need me to help you unzip the dress?"

"Nah, I got it. And are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. Just don't expect a birthday gift this year. Maybe for a couple of years."

Mercedes exited the dressing room, dress carefully hung on the hanger. "You're amazing."

"I know." Kurt smirked and took the dress from her. "I'll have someone wrap this up for you." He handed the dress off to one of the assistants milling around the vault.

"What's that?" Mercedes asked, indicating to a sleek black suit, complete with a long shiny silver scarf and a silver bowtie with ice-blue accents.

"Oh nothing," Kurt said, smoothing out the lapel. "Just something I've been working on in my spare time."

"It's impressive. Saving it for a special occasion?" Mercedes raised her eyebrows in a knowing matter.

"What? Of course not. It's just a little side project." Kurt's phone buzzed with the alert of a text, and he read it quickly.

"That's Finn," he sighed. "Listen I have to go, okay? But knock 'em dead at your party alright?" He kissed Mercedes cheek swiftly, and then told an assistant to make sure she made it out with all her stuff.

"Have fun, boo!" she called to his retreating back.

"You too! And it doesn't hurt to mention who designed your dressed later, okay?"

* * *

><p><em>Location: A bar; 55 Little West 12<em>_th__ Street; Brass Monkey. Time: Evening_

"I can't believe you called _me_ for help, Finn. I'm _gay_."

"Yeah, well I don't know anyone else in New York, Kurt!"

"Well why don't you try introducing yourself to other people then?" Kurt asked, exasperated. The two of them entered to bar, which was already buzzing with pre-countdown activity. They made their way over to the bar, sitting down next to a mohawked man, who appeared to be listening to the laments of his Asian friend.

"A beer, please," Finn said to the bartender.

"A rum and coke," Kurt ordered. The bartender nodded and went to grab their drinks.

"But that's what I'm trying to do! It's why I need your help!" Their drinks were set in front of them, and they both nodded in thanks, Finn laying down a few bills to pay.

"As your wingman," Kurt deadpanned.

"Exactly!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. "Finn, I'm gay. I don't exactly have a lot of experience in this. The closest thing I have to a relationship recently was a drunken hook-up last year." His mind drifted to the event in question, but he shook himself back when Finn started talking.

"Well that's all I need! Just one night," Finn took a deep gulp of his drink as he pleaded.

The mohawked stranger sitting next to him swiveled in his chair. "If it's a hook-up you're looking for, there's some action going on in Bar 13, near Union Square."

"Thanks bro'" Finn said in surprise, fist-bumping the man.

The brothers shared a look, and Kurt sighed, finishing off his drink before sliding off his stool.

* * *

><p>As the two men left the bar, Puck turned his attention back to Mike who was currently spewing his troubles as he sipped his beer.<p>

"…And I just want it to be perfect, and I figure that it can't get much better than New Year's Eve, but Tina's never even really expressed much interesting in New Year's and…"

Puck and Sam, who had just come back from trying to hit on a pretty black girl and was now sitting on the other side of Mike, shared a sympathetic but somewhat annoyed look.

"Look, Mike," Sam said, clapping Mike on the shoulder. "You and Tina love each other, right?" Mike nodded, staring hard at his beer.

"Then it shouldn't really matter, okay? She'll love you no matter how you propose, even if you forgot the ring." Mike's eyes suddenly widened, and he started patting the pockets of his pants.

"You didn't forget the ring, did you?" Puck groaned.

"I left it at the dance studio after I left," Mike's eyes were panicked. He tried to take a few deep breaths. "I mean, it's okay right? You guys just said that it wouldn't matter anyways-"

"Well, we lied," Sam said, shrugging on his jacket. "C'mon, man, we'll go back to the studio and grab it."

Mike grabbed his jacket, the two of them leaving the bar. Sam smiled charmingly at the girl he was talking to earlier, but she only gave him a glare, sipping from her cocktail and talking to her blonde friend. A few minutes later, she left as well, leaving Puck and the blonde woman the only two sitting at the bar. He sidled up next to her, and she raised an eyebrow at him as she drained her drink.

"What can I do for you?" she asked, voice tinted with a bit of coldness. She signaled the bartender for a refill, thanking him when he set it down in front of her.

"Whatever position you prefer," Puck answered, voice low and husky. To his surprise, she scoffed, taking a long sip from her drink.

"No offense, but you're not my type," she said curtly. "I'm into girls, thank you," she smirked at him.

He threw his head back and groaned defeatedly. "Second one of the night, my god."

"The pickings are slim tonight for you?" she asked conversationally.

"A bit." He dropped the "seductive" voice. "Lucky night for you, I suppose."

She shrugged. "Not quite. I'm in a relationship. Or at least, I was," she trailed off, looking at her drink sadly. "I'm not really sure anymore."

"Relationship issues?"

"Somewhat," she crossed her legs daintily. "I'm Quinn."

"Puck." The two of them shook hands and then sat in a comfortable silence for a while. Puck cleared his throat. "Want to tell me about them?" he suggested.

Quinn snorted delicately, tossing her short blonde hair out of her face. "Why you? We've never even met before."

Puck shrugged. "I don't know. I did the same thing to the one I met earlier, only I didn't have much choice in the matter. She kinda demanded that I sit down and listen to her."

Quinn smiled. "Sounds like someone I know."

Puck sat on the stool next to her. "So how about it? You're alone; my friends probably won't be back anytime soon. Couldn't hurt, could it?"

Quinn stared at him, measuring him up. "You're on," she said, before launching into her relationship problems with Rachel.

* * *

><p><em>Location: A bar, 35 East 13<em>_th__ Street; Bar 13 _

"So have you set your sights on anyone yet?" Kurt asked impatiently as he and Finn sat down at a table after arriving at the second bar.

Finn shrugged. "I don't know. It's kinda dark here. What about you?"

"I'm gay, Finn," Kurt deadpanned for the umpteenth time. "I doubt anyone that I find attractive would suit you at all."

Finn toyed with the salt and pepper shakers on the table, doing a quick scan around the room.

"Look, Kurt," Finn said conspiringly. "This is going to be really awkward for me to say but," he took a deep breath, "I know you've had a rough couple years, getting Blackbird up and all, and I know you haven't had a lot of time to-to date around or whatever, but now that you're… on your feet, I guess, don't you think it'd be nice to," he shrugged, "date someone?"

Kurt was silent for a moment before shrugging half-heartedly. "I don't know. I guess I'm not," he thought back a year prior, "really into dating, right now," he finished lamely.

Finn was about to say something, but their perky blonde waitress interrupted them.

"Hi, I'm Brittany! Anything I can get you guys?" Finn's head snapped up in surprise.

"Brittany? What are you doing here?" he asked, getting up and embracing the girl in a hug.

"Working?" she said confused. "I work here part-time, after I finish up at the dance studio."

"Excuse me," Kurt was waved a little. "Still a little confused here. You two know each other?"

Finn sat back down, pulling over a chair for Brittany. "Yeah, we used to date a couple years back."

"I dumped him for Santana's sweet lady kisses," Brittany announced smiling after Kurt introduced himself.

"Er… yeah," Finn said awkwardly. "Anyways, what are you doing working in a bar? I thought business at the dance studio with… Mike?" he sounded unsure, "was good?"

"I'm trying to earn some extra money, so I can fly Santana here soon," the blonde girl said sadly shrugging. "She said business in her law firm was getting difficult. She had to transfer to Chicago for a better job, but it's still tough apparently." She got back up. "I better get back to work. You guys want anything?"

Kurt and Finn ordered their same drinks, rum and coke and a beer, respectively. When Brittany came and set their drinks down, she stayed for a while, cocking her hip against the server tray.

"What are you two doing here together on New Year's?" she asked. "Wouldn't you rather be spending it with some… significant other or something? Unless you're dating…" she trailed off.

Kurt was quick to correct her. "Oh, no no no, we're not dating. I'm his step-brother. He called me in to apparently help him find a hook-up for tonight."

Brittany cocked her head and smiled widely. "I can help you there, Finn!"

Finn and Kurt exchanged glances. "Really?" they said simultaneously. Finn was eager to find company; Kurt was eager to escape the presence of his lovable yet misguided brother.

Brittany nodded eagerly. "Yup!" she said brightly. "I've been serving people all night; I know who's alone and who isn't. There's a vodka soda," she pointed towards the bar, to a brunette girl sitting at the edge alone, "right there. She's nursing some kind of hurt, but she's nice enough right now."

"Right now?" Kurt asked.

Brittany shifted from foot to foot. "Well, earlier she was screaming at some people, but she's calmed down since then."

Finn downed the rest of his drink, standing up and smoothing out his shirt. "Thanks, Brittany," he looked unruffled at the mention of the girl's earlier actions. "Remember what I said, Kurt."

Kurt and Brittany watched Finn make his way over and introduce himself to the girl.

"What about you?" Brittany asked Kurt kindly. He choked on his drink a little, sputtering.

"Oh, no," he said, "there's nothing I need." He smiled up at her, but she stared back disbelievingly.

"Are you sure? Because, without your step-brother here, your left all by yourself. No… family, girlfriend, or anything?"

Kurt shook his head vehemently. "Nope. Just me and my rum and coke," he shrugged, taking a sip of said drink. "And it'd be a boyfriend, if I had one," he pointed out.

"That's sad," Brittany said softly.

Kurt shrugged. "You get used to it, after a few years."

"What about the New Year's kiss?"

"I'll find someone, if I need to."

"Well if you're still alone by midnight, there's usually an awesome roof party at my apartment. 5th Avenue; Folio House, have you heard of it?"

Kurt nodded in recognition. "Right by Barnes and Noble and a Gap, right?"

"Yup!"

Kurt smiled at the sweet girl. "I'll be sure to swing by if I have to. I'm not sure, though," he trailed off suggestively. "I might have a date. I'm thinking about going."

Brittany smirked at him, giving a little shimmy as she walked back to the bar. "Sounds mysterious. You should let me know if it works out."

Kurt chuckled. "I'll be sure to do that. What's your full name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Brittany S. Pierce," she paused, waiting for him to figure out what that sounded like. When he still didn't get it, she quipped, "It's Brittany, bitch," both of them laughing afterwards.

**I'm in New York lovelies! Anyone else going to watch Darren in H2$? **

**Tumblr: icyhands-starlighteyes**

**Review?**


	4. New People, New Solutions

_Location: Cadence Dance Studios, the offices of Mike Chang. Time: Late Evening_

Mike turned the key to his office, glancing around the room before fully entering his office. He sat down at his desk, shuffling through drawers and piles full of paper, coming up empty. He ran a hand through his hair, his breath rate increasing rapidly. He started checking the pockets of some of the jackets he had left in the past.

"Oh no no no no no," he muttered, double checking the drawers again.

"You found it?" Sam asked, knocking on the door and entering.

"Um…" Mike said, flipping over a few papers, "No…"

"What?"

"Yeah, um… it isn't _here_."

"Well then where could it be?"

"I don't know!" Mike all but yelled, his panicked eyes flickering around the room. He tossed a few more papers up and slammed some drawers in anger.

Sam quickly crossed the room, placing his hands on Mike's shoulders. "Whoa whoa whoa; _calm down_." Mike took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes.

"Yeah, okay. _Calm_."

"You good?" Sam clapped Mike's shoulders when he nodded. "Okay, retrace your steps. Did you leave it at your apartment maybe?"

Mike shook his head. "No I _know_ I had the ring with me when I left this morning. I came straight here, because I was running late." He shifted from foot to foot, remembering. "I was making sure she left without thinking anything was up, so I put the box in my dance bag."

"Okay, so where's your dance bag?" Sam asked, peering around Mike. He spotted the bag in the corner and knelt, rifling through it. "Did you take anything out of it?"

"Of course," Mike said shrugging. "Some shoes, socks, etcetera."

"Anything that the box could have been wrapped in?"

"No," Mike shrugged again. "Wait. I lent a towel from the bag to Brittany." He pulled his cell out.

"_Hello?_" He heard the low murmur of voices in the bar she was working.

"Hey Brittany; it's Mike."

"_Hi Mike! What's up?"_

"I was er… wondering about the towel I gave you earlier today?"

_"What about it?"_

"Was there anything like, wrapped in it when I gave it to you?"

_"Um… I _think _there was a small box in it? I'm not sure though. You'd have to check my office."_

Mike sighed with relief. "Thanks Brittany."

_"No problem. Good luck! And I'm sorry about the mess."_

She hung up before Mike could ask her about "the mess." Shrugging to Sam, the two of them left Mike's office, moving down the hallway to open the door to Brittany's office, which was thankfully unlocked.

Flicking on the light, Mike quickly saw what she meant by "mess." He groaned when he saw the pure chaos that littered the floor, from the assortment of dance uniforms and shoes on the ground to the mess of papers on her desk. Sam took the far side of the room, while Mike fell to his knees and began sifting through the clutter near the door.

* * *

><p><em>Location: A bar; 55 Little West 12th Street; Brass Monkey<em>

"…And after I left work, I came here. I've been here ever since," Quinn finished, taking a sip of her drink.

"Don't you think it'd be a good idea to maybe go home and talk to it about her?" Puck asked. Quinn shrugged, unsure.

"I'm kinda scared she'll break up with me if I do," she muttered. "My girlfriend… she means well, but she's way dramatic sometimes. I'm hoping she'll calm down."

Puck nodded. "It's funny, you know-" he broke off mid-sentence, quickly deciding that it might not be a good time to mention that the other lesbian he had met at a different bar had told him a near identical story.

"What's funny?" Quinn scoffed. "Tell me; I _need _a good laugh."

"Um…" Puck scrambled for a moment. "Nothing, really. You just remind me of this one girl I knew in high school. She was a lot like you."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh you know," he flashed a teasing grin to her. "Pretty blonde cheerleader type, kinda bitchy," he earned a slap on the arm for that. "Although, I bet you didn't get knocked up in high school, being… you know."

Quinn smirked at him, sipping her drink. "You'd be surprised." Puck's eyebrows rose, but he didn't comment. "Anyways, tell me about yourself."

Puck shrugged. "I'm your typical single dude, you know? Got my bros, got the hook-ups I need. I'm set." He took a deep sip of his drink. "It's a good life."

"Except for tonight," Quinn pointed out.

"Well, yeah."

"You don't have any emotional baggage you want to drop on me?" Quinn asked. "I feel like I should return a favor."

"Nope. I don't have relationship issues; I never have a relationship."

Quinn chuckled. "Sounds like you got it all figured out."

"I do." The two of them laughed a bit.

"No seriously," Quinn said. "Nothing? I feel bad about just talking about myself all night. You don't have any… plans for the new year? Any resolutions?"

Puck thought for a moment. "Well… nah, you'll think it's stupid."

"Try me."

Puck stared at Quinn for a while, before deciding to just go for it. "Well, I've always wanted to be a musician you see? But I've never had enough drive, I guess, or whatever. And this recording company is holding a huge party tonight, but I'm pretty sure I'll bail, because…"

* * *

><p><em>Location: The Plaza Hotel<em>

Artie rolled down the hallways quickly, talking to Tina as he spoke.

"Okay so we have the food, music, lights, performers- performers. Where's Blaine?"

Tina checked her phone, scrolling through her texts. "Um, the last message he sent said that he'd be here in ten minutes."

"Well tell him to get here faster, Tina. People are going to start arriving in an hour or so, and if he wants time to warm up, he better be here."

Tina nodded frantically. "Okay, sending a text… now." Her phone pinged almost immediately after she sent it. "It says he'll be here in five."

Artie smiled. "Good. As the new, front artist of Fresh Beatz, it's imperative that he's here. Now," he said, switching topics. "I need you to write out a nice long thank you letter to the head of Blackbird Designs. God knows we owe them a lot…"

* * *

><p><em>Location: A bar, 35 East 13th Street; Bar 13<em>

"…And I can't just quit the job _now_," the brunette talking to Finn-Rachel- stressed, new tears _again. _"I've already signed a contract and everything."

Finn awkwardly patted her on the back, scanning the room for any signs of Kurt. It wasn't that Rachel was mean or anything, just very…self-centered. She had talked about her problems to him all night, and it became very clear to him that she was, in fact, a lesbian, within the first five minutes of meeting her. Not that Finn had a problem with that, obviously, but it wasn't exactly what he was looking for that evening.

"Look, Rachel, I'm sure she'll come around," he said, spotting Kurt. His heart deflated when he noticed that Kurt was chatting happily with Brittany, who had apparently gone off shift thirty minutes ago. It appeared that his gay brother was getting more action with the ladies that he was.

"Yeah, but what if she _doesn't_. What if she leaves me for some stable woman, who can offer her a home and kids and long evenings together? What am I supposed to do then?"

Finn gave up trying to signal Kurt, settling for turning his attention to Rachel in front of him. Maybe she'd help him find someone later, if he managed to get her to work through her relationship issue now.

"Well have you tried talking to her?" he asked.

"I don't think she'd listen to me," Rachel mumbled softly.

"I don't think so," Finn said, cracking a grin. "You kind of… pull focus."

Rachel smiled brilliantly. "Thank you!"

"Don't mention it," he said, happy to see a smile. Because although she's kind of annoying and talks about herself a lot, he can tell that her heart's in the right place. Finn might not be the brightest person around, but he'd like to think that he's learned enough to know who's a good person and who isn't.

She pulled him into a sudden hug, throwing her small frame around his broad shoulders, and he barely has time to reciprocate before she pulled back.

"Tell me, Finn," she said, now bright and happy at the thought of fixing her relationship. "Do you have any problems you want me to know about? After all, you offered such great help; I think it's only fair that I attempt to help you."

Finn sat for a while, trying to figure out how simply talking about a problem makes for "great help", but he took the invitation anyways.

"Well, I was kind of looking for a girl? Any type of girl," he trailed off nervously, trying not to seem too desperate under Rachel's now scrutinizing gaze.

"Like, to share a New Year's kiss with, or to like _hook-up_ with?" Finn paused, because he never really thought about just _kissing_ a girl on New Year's.

"Does it really matter?" he chuckled.

"Of course it does!" Rachel enthusiastically told him. "Look, the New Year is supposed to be all about fresh starts and new beginnings. So do you really want to start with a one-night stand? And let me tell you, my brother did, and now there's _all_ this drama…"

* * *

><p>Kurt laughed as Brittany told him another story about her, her girlfriend, and her cat, which earned a few curious stares from the girl, as she had been completely serious while telling the story. Nevertheless, she smiled with him.<p>

"So," she said, leaning forward on her arms. "Tell me about this 'mysterious' date you might have." The idea had been plaguing her mind since she had heard him mention it, but she refrained from asking outright when her shift had ended.

"Ah," Kurt drained the contents of his cup, shaking his head when Brittany asked if he wanted more. "It's- it's nothing really."

"That always means it's something."

Kurt hesitated, and she gave him an open and encouraging smile. "Okay, okay," he acquiesced. "Just… just don't laugh, okay? It's going to sound ridiculous and stupid."

Brittany shrugged. "Ridiculous and stupid don't always mean bad."

Kurt shot her a grateful smile before starting. "Do… do you believe in anything like… love at first sight, or something?"

Brittany pondered the question in silence for a while. Kurt took it as a good sign that she didn't outwardly laugh at him when he asked the question, and waited patiently.

"Well," she said thoughtfully. "I don't think you should up and marry someone the first time you meet them, because that's just kind of stupid. But I think you can, definitely, just _tell_ when someone's worth taking a risk on. Like, you just _know_ that, whatever happens in your relationship, you're going to get something good out of it, whether you break up or not. Why?"

Kurt thought about that for a moment, carefully trying to decide how to word his response. "Last year… I met this guy at this party. We'd both been drinking; we weren't ready to pass out or throw up or anything, but we were definitely a little more than buzzed, you know?" Brittany nodded understandably. "We hadn't talked to each other the entire night or anything, but when the countdown was over, he pulled me in a kissed me. Long story short, we went back to his apartment, which was in the same building," he clarified, "and we… slept together. And the next morning I left before he woke up, and left a note saying that if he wanted to try things, he could meet me at a coffee shop at midnight today," he finished, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Brittany leaned back in her chair, taking a long time to think about the situation. "And now you're trying to decide whether or not to go to the coffee shop?" Kurt nodded, worrying his lip slightly.

"I think… you should do it," she said.

"Really?"

"Really. Look, if you felt alright to chance meeting this guy again, you obviously didn't feel like, bad or anything, when you woke up right?"

"Just the opposite, really," Kurt shrugged. "I know you're supposed to feel like, cheap or regretful after a one night stand or something, but I just felt fine."

"You should go for it then. What have you got to lose? The way I see it, there are four ways this can work out." She leaned in close and stuck out her thumb. "A: He doesn't show up, and you just forget about it and move on. B:," she extended her first finger, "He does show up, and you two date for a while, but it doesn't work out and you move on." Her voice got slightly softer and she held up another finger. "C: He shows up, and it ends up being the best decision the two of you have ever made in your entire lives." Her voice grew softer again. "Or D: You don't go, and you spend the rest of your life wondering what could have happened if you did."

As Kurt leaned back not saying anything, she mentioned one more thing. "It's New Years. It's as good a time as any to take a chance."

* * *

><p><em>Location: The Plaza Hotel<em>

Blaine took a rest during his set, surveying the crowd of patrons that had attended the party. Taking a sip of water, he noticed Tina, Artie's assistant, and waved her over, pulling her into a hug.

"Happy New Years!" he exclaimed. "Did you plan all this?"

"Well, not exactly. I mean, there were _tons _of people helping out and-"

Blaine cut her off, laughing. "Always so modest." A silver glint on her left hand caught his eye.

"Oh my god." He pulled her left hand into the light, staring at the ring. "Did Mike propose?" He had never really met Tina's boyfriend, except in passing or large parties like this one.

Tina smiled mysteriously, wiggling the round cut, one carat solitaire in the antique setting. "Not yet," she giggled. "He was going to, but I took the ring before he put the box in his dance bag."

"Sneaky," he laughed. "You have a few plans up your sleeve?"

"Of course!" Her face turned serious. "Did you need anything?"

Blaine looked surprised. "What? Who said I needed anything? Can't a guy wish his boss's assistant a New Year's greeting without being judged?"

Tina mock-glared at him, and he held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I need a favor."

"And what's that?" she asked primly.

He stared at her nervously; triple checking with himself that this _was_ what he wanted. "I need you to tell Artie that I can't be here for the last, say, thirty minutes before the countdown."


	5. Last Minute Decisions

**This is the second to last chapter! I might do an epilogue, but it won't be up on the 1****st****. I unfortunately don't have time to start a new chapter. **

**I would also like to announce that I now have a beta! Her name is Kell (blainersarus on tumblr) and she's lovely and amazing. There will be a few edits made to the other chapters, but it shouldn't be anything **_**major**_**.**

**Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own anything.**

_Location: Cadence Dance Studios, the offices of Brittany Pierce. Time: Very Late in the Evening_

"I found it!" Sam yelled triumphantly from a corner of the room, where he had been shuffling through the tenth pile of clothes. Mike's head popped up comically from under Brittany's desk, hitting his head on the wood with a loud _thunk_.

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing the spot softly. "Let me see, Sam."

Sam threw the box over before picking himself up and brushing the legs of his jeans. Mike flailed wildly, catching the black velvet box just barely. He shot a glare at Sam before opening the box.

Which was empty.

His heart plummeted instantaneously. His eyes flashed around the room quickly, taking in the sheer mess of it all. He heart sank even further. Even with two, three, four other people, it could still take them _hours_ to find a sole ring.

"Fuck," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper

"It's in there and everything?" asked Sam, who hadn't noticed what had happened yet.

Making a split second decision, Mike pocketed the box, smiling brightly at Sam. "Yup. Everything's good."

Sam smiled back at him, pulling him to his feet. "Awesome. Now c'mon. We still have to go pick up Puck from the bar, so we'd have to go now if we want to make it to the party Tina invited us to."

Mike inwardly winced at the mention of the party, but he schooled his features well. "Right. Now," he said conversationally, bumping shoulders with Sam. "Tell me about the girl at the bar from earlier. You know, the one you were staring at for _at least_ forty-five minutes before you made a move?" he teased.

Sam's smile dropped. "Ah, it's nothing." He kicked a pebble as they exited the studio, Mike taking sure care to lock up the building. "She turned me down anyways. She, uh, wasn't who I thought she was, I guess."

Mike shrugged. "You never know. It _is _New Years, after all." When Sam stared at him, he shrugged again. "A time for miracles," he commented.

"Let's hope so," Sam said hopefully.

"Yeah; let's." Mike agreed, trying to ignore the feeling of emptiness radiating from the black box in his pocket.

* * *

><p><em>Location: A bar, 35 East 13th Street; Bar 13<em>

"So tell me more about Santana," Kurt said, a little while after his and Brittany's "serious" chat about whether he would make his date tonight. He was still undecided at this point, but he was definitely leaning towards making the date.

A wistful smile crept on to Brittany's face and she sighed happily. "Santana," she gave Kurt a dopey grin, "She's kinda everything to me, you know?"

"You miss her a lot, don't you?"

Brittany nodded wistfully and Kurt smiled at glazed over, smitten look in his friend's eyes. "You should let me meet her, when she comes to town. She sounds amazing, according to you."

"I think you two would get along," Brittany said, taking a sip of the drink she had gotten herself. "You're both fierce and can cut people to pieces with your vicious, vicious words."

"You flatter me," Kurt teased. "What does she look like?"

"Um… she's Latina, and has this dark, dark hair and-Oh wait." Brittany rifled around for her purse, pulling out her phone. "I have a picture of her here." She flicked through the files on her phone, handing it to Kurt once she found what she was looking for.

Kurt stared down at the phone, immediately recognizing the woman on the screen. "Oh, I've seen her before! I think she modeled in one of my shows once. She's… a lawyer, now? Right?"

Brittany nodded. "I remember her talking about modeling while she was in law school, just for some extra cash. You were probably just starting out then, weren't you?"

"Yeah, it was like, three or four years ago. Funny, isn't it?"

"What is?" Brittany sounded confused.

Kurt shrugged. "Just what a small world it is. You dated my step-brother, and your girlfriend modeled in one of my shows a few years back."

Brittany took a sip of her drink, thinking about it. "So," she said, changing the topic. "You're a designer, huh?"

Kurt nodded. "Blackbird Designs is my baby," he said seriously.

"I loved your stuff. I used to steal it all from Santana whenever she brought some home. Speaking of," she trailed off.

"What's up?"

"Just hang tight for a moment." She finished off her drink and got up from the table. "I need your opinion on something."

* * *

><p><em>Location: A bar; 55 Little West 12th Street<em>

"…And I just don't want to spend my New Year's Eve sitting at some party of a recording studio I'll _never_ get signed to, feeling sorry for myself."

Quinn listened quietly as Puck finished telling her about why he didn't want to go to the Fresh Beatz party that night.

"Look, you should just go," she said. Puck looked at her, raising an eyebrow, and she continued. "Let me tell you something. The fashion company I work for is helping this party, and I can tell you that these things are held for two reasons: 1) To celebrate whatever it is that needs celebrating, and 2) To scope out a new crowd. People have gotten discovered at these things before."

Puck scoffed. "Please."

"I'm serious! Plus, it's New Years. You never know."

Puck rolled his eyes, but started considering it. Quinn voiced his thoughts. "You have nothing to lose."

"I'll think about it," he told Quinn honestly.

"Better think quickly," Quinn said, watching the door, which Mike and Sam walked through. "Looks like your ride is here." Puck glanced at the door, fiddling with his thumbs as his friends approached.

"Hey Puck. You ready to go?" Mike asked.

The answer was out before Puck even really thought about it. "Yeah." He finished his drink as Quinn's face morphed into a smug yet approving smile. "Let's go."

The three of them were nearly out the door when Puck felt a sudden tap on his shoulder. He turned around he found himself face to face with Quinn, smiling sweetly at him. She pressed a light kiss to his cheek

"A good luck kiss," she explained. "Happy New Year's." She leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. "And thank you."

"Happy New Year's, Quinn."

* * *

><p><em>Location: A bar, 35 East 13th Street; Bar 13<em>

Successfully recounting her brother's entire New Year's Eve drama had managed to convince Finn that a one-night stand was a horrible, demeaning way to kick off the new year, and for that Rachel was happy. Sure, she stretched most, if not all, of the details in order to somewhat scare Finn, but she had true intentions, and that's what counted, right? She had done it for the sake of her new friend, and because of that, he was going to have a better year, even if he didn't quite know it yet.

"Walk me home, would you?" she asked, laying done the money for her drinks. Finn nodded and paid for his drink, meeting Kurt's eyes across the room. The two shared a look, Finn trying to convey what he was trying to say without walking over. Kurt gave him a slight nod, and Finn shot him a thankful grin.

He left the bar with Rachel, not in the way he had originally been planning to, but it was nice all the same. The two walked together in a comfortable silence for several minutes, neither one knowing what to say to the other person.

"You know." Rachel finally started, moving a piece of hair out of her face. "I'm-I'm really thankful I met you tonight, Finn."

"Me too," he said quickly. Rachel let out a little exasperated-yet-amused sigh at his interruption and smiled.

"I know that spending your New Year's Eve with… someone like me wasn't how you wanted your evening to turn out, so I'm really grateful you still stuck around." The two of them walked faster as the chill of the outside set deeper in their bones, making the final turn onto West 18th Street. Finn said nothing in reply, but Rachel seemed to understand his silence. They eventually stopped outside an apartment building, and Finn could hear what sounded like an amazing roof party coming from above.

"Well." Rachel looked down at her shoes awkwardly, swaying on the spot a little. "This is my place. Folio House," she said, gesturing faux-grandly to the building.

"Nice place," Finn commented, glancing up.

"Thanks."

They stood around in silence for a while, and Rachel started taking small steps towards the door. "I should- I should probably… go."

"Yeah," Finn said in a sore attempt to be casual. "I'll see you around." He grinned at her, bringing up a hand to half-wave at her.

"See you."

Finn took about five steps away from the building when Rachel called out again. "Hey Finn?"

He turned around, walking back those five steps. "Yeah?"

She reached up to throw her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a hug. "Thanks," she whispers. His arms moved to wrap loosely around her waist, and he felt her lips press to his cheek.

"A New Year's kiss," she joked. "In case you don't find anyone."

"Thank you, Rachel." He smiled and started walking away, and heard Rachel walk softly into the building.

* * *

><p><em>Location: The Plaza Hotel<em>

"Hey Artie!" Mercedes called out, leaning down to hug the wheel-chaired man in a pseudo-hug.

"Mercedes!" Artie hugged her back as best he could. "I'm so glad that you made it!"

Mercedes scoffed. "Like I'd pass up an invite to one of the best New Year's parties. Tina!" The Asian girl whirled around, and a smile lit up her face as she quickly ran over.

"Oh, I'm so glad you could fly out! And you look _amazing_." Mercedes giggled and posed, showing off her black and blue dress. "Who's the designer?"

"My friend Kurt owns Blackbird Designs. This was an early birthday gift." She tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"You're kidding, right? Half of the performer's costumes and dresses came from him!" Tina waved a hand around the room, filled with some of the most gorgeous and artful outfits ever.

"Small world, isn't it?" Mercedes said idly, looking around the party. Tina and Artie nodded in agreement.

"And thank you," Artie cut in. "Without you, we wouldn't have even known about this catering business. We owe you, so much."

Tina nodded seriously, and Mercedes just waved the thanks away. "Oh, don't mention it. So how have you been? I see you found yourself a new front man." She inclined her head towards the lead performer on the stage.

"We were extremely lucky with many aspects of this party. Blaine up there is one of the best we've ever worked with," Artie said.

"Speaking of Blaine," Tina gently gripped the handles of Artie's wheelchair. "A word?"

The two of them excused themselves and Mercedes turned away to enjoy the rest of the party.

"What's up?" Artie asked once they were in a more private area.

"Um… Blaine won't be able to perform a full set today," she said, fiddling with her hands. "He needs to leave around 11:30."

"Why?"

"He wouldn't say." Tina shrugged. "Only that he had someone he needed to meet at midnight."

Artie rubbed his face. "What do you think we should do? He's the last performer of the year; we can't pull anyone last minute sets at this time." He glanced at his watch, where the minute hand flicked to 10:57.

"Honestly? I think you should give it to him. He's been such an amazing performer this past year, especially with having to sudden transition into Smythe's place."

"But what about the rest of tonight's entertainment? People are expecting some kind of background noise-"

Tina cut him off. "Look, what if I tell him he has to find a replacement for himself okay?"

Artie nodded, spotting another problem across the room. "Okay. Tell him during his next water break. And make sure the person he finds is _decent_, at the least." Tina nodded excitedly as he rolled away.

A warm arm wrapped around her waist, and she smiled fondly as she pivoted to face Mike, placing her hands on his chest and pressing a small kiss to his lips.

"You're gonna need to find a new way to surprise me, honey."

Mike pouted a little, but smiled when she kissed him again. "Hi there."

"Hey," she said softly, fingering the skinny tie he wore. "Where are your friends? They came, right?"

Mike vaguely gestured around the room. "They've integrated themselves into the party." Tina glanced around, briefly catching a glimpse of bright blond hair making his way towards Mercedes and what looked a mohawked man in another corner, checking out some of the sound gear near the stage.

"C'mon," Mike pulled her hand gently towards the dance area. "I believe you owe me a dance."

* * *

><p><em>Location: A bar, 35 East 13th Street; Bar 13<em>

Brittany hurried back out of the employees' lounge, dressed in a sleeveless bottle green dress, her blonde hair falling in loose curls and pulled away from her face. She tossed her peacoat over her arm and strutted over to Kurt in her silver heels, striking a pose as he let out a low whistle.

"Should've had you model when we released this line," he commented. "You pull it off _way_ better than the other girl. You look _amazing_."

She smiled, adjusting her dress. "You think?"

"Absolutely." A contemplative look came across his face as he continued to look at the dress. "Come here though." She walked forward a little, at his pale fingers adjusted a piece of the skirt synched in the front. He paused, smoothing it out again, before removing a sparkly silver brooch on his blazer lapel and pinning it carefully right above the sewing.

"Perfect." He adjusted the skirt one last time, and leaned back to gaze at his handiwork.

"Oh, Kurt, I couldn't use your pin," Brittany's hand pulled the skirt out a bit to better look at the brooch.

"Nonsense. You can give it back to me the next time we meet."

Brittany nodded, understanding suddenly. "Of course. Next time then." She pulled on her deep black peacoat, glancing at the clock over the bar. 11:06. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I have to go."

"Gotta date?"

She finished buttoning up the jacket, fluffing her hair out over it. "Yup. Can't be late for my video chat." She fluttered her fingers at him. "Bye, Kurt." They both giggled at the nickname. "I'll return your pin _and_ properly introduce you to Santana next time, okay?"

He nodded, making no move to leave. She leaned down and gave him a hug. "And thank you. You sure you'll be okay?"

"I will." He smiled at her secretively. "I've got my own date to keep up."

Brittany squealed excitedly, hugging him again. "You have to tell me everything, okay?"

"Of course."

She wiggled her fingers at him in goodbye as she left, and he watched her fondly. A few minutes later, he stood up, chucking a few bills on the table as he did. Shoving his hands into his pocket, he quickly left, whistling as he walked towards Blackbird Designs. He had a suit to finish.

**If you're reading this, I would like to thank you so much for reading, and wish you a Happy New Year, filled with good health, peace, and prosperity (Asian thing). So thank you, and here's to a new year *raises glass* filled with more Glee craziness and fics (*hint hint. Any Doctor Who/ Klaine fans out there? And **_**Life as We Know It**_**?)**

**Tumblr: icyhands-starlighteyes**

**Review?**


	6. Final Countdown

**Final chapter everyone! **

_Location:_ _Folio House Inc., 105 5th Avenue_

Quinn walked briskly back to her and Rachel's apartment, replaying what she planned to say to her when she arrived. She glanced at her watch, nearly bumping into another blonde girl in a black peacoat as she did.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, doing some awkward maneuvering around her.

"No problem," the girl said brightly as she unlocked the apartment next to Quinn's. "Happy New Years!"

"Happy New Years," Quinn replied warmly, entering her dark apartment.

"Rachel?" she called out, dropping her bag by her feet. She was usually home before her. "Rachel?" She turned a corner, and then stood still, shocked by the sight that greeted her eyes.

Candles flickered softly all around the room, casting it in a soft yellow glow and permeating it with a scent of vanilla. Instrumental music flowed through the room, so low that it was no surprise that Quinn hadn't really heard it from the hallway. In the middle of it all was Rachel, sitting on their olive green couch, the candles casting shadows around her face and figure. She glanced up when Quinn entered the room, but made no move toward her.

"Hi," she murmured softly.

"Hey." Quinn shrugged off her coat. She crossed the room to sit beside Rachel, taking her hands gently and rubbing the pads of her thumbs over the back of her hands. "We should," she paused, taking a breath, "we should talk."

"Yeah." Rachel shifted closer to her, taking their clasped hands as a good sign.

"I-"

"We-"

They spoke at the same time, giggling a little. "You start," Rachel said.

Quinn hesitated, staring into Rachel's eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry." She swallowed, licking her lips before continuing. "I was just so… focused? Obsessed? With what I wanted-"Rachel opened her mouth to cut her off, but Quinn held up a hand to stop her. "Let me finish. I'm not saying that I don't want kids or anything, but this show in Chicago." She took a deep breath. "It's big," she admitted. "Really big. And I think you should go."

"Oh Quinn," Rachel said. "I-"

"_Let me finish_." She giggled, brushing a strand of Rachel's hair out of her face. "I still want kids. And I still expect you to fly home whenever you can. But the thing is, kids can wait. This show is an amazing opportunity, and I'd hate for you to miss it, okay?"

"But Quinn I'm always working and we barely ever see each other-"

"Don't argue with me, Rachel. I thought about this long and hard over a couple martinis already." She chuckled, pressing a kiss to the other girl's cheek. "All I ask is that you save me a _really_ good seat opening night. And maybe, when you come home after the show," she shrugged. "We can really think about having kids, okay?"

Rachel nodded eagerly, pressing her lips to Quinn's. When she pulled away, her eyes were shining with emotion, and she embarrassingly brushed away the moisture. "Okay," she whispered.

"Okay?"

"Yeah." She kissed Quinn passionately, tangling a hand in the hair at her neck. Quinn responded with equal fervor, pushing Rachel lightly back into the couch cushions.

"Love you," she murmured against her lips.

"I love you too," Rachel smiled, pulling Quinn closer.

* * *

><p>Brittany flicked on the lights to her apartment, quickly turning on the computer on her desk. After it had booted up, she clicked around, pulling up her video chat app. She backed away from the computer as it connected to Santana's face, posing a little in front of the camera when Santana's box loaded onto the screen.<p>

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes," her girlfriend greeted her with, a wide smile appearing on her face.

Brittany giggled, pulling over a chair. "Hi, 'Tana."

"Hi Britt Britt."

They stared in silence for a while, drinking in each other's appearance. "So how have you been?" Santana started.

Brittany shrugged. "Alright. The dance studio's been keeping me busy and all. It's not the same without you though." She repeated the words she said every time they chatted. Santana's smile turned wistful.

"I'm sorry, Britt. I'll try to make it home more often this year, okay?"

"It's okay, Santana. I know that the firm needs you and all. It's just… rough, sometimes, you know?"

Santana nodded. "So how was your day?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Good!" Brittany said brightly. "You'll never guess who I ran into today."

"Who?"

"Finn Hudson. You know, my boyfriend from a couple years ago?"

"Do I need to be jealous?" Santana asked teasingly.

"Aw, honey. You know I'm all yours," Brittany giggled. "But did you know he had a step-brother? Kurt Hummel, from Blackbird Designs. Surely you remember him?"

"I never would have guessed that the hulk had such fashionable relations. How is Hummel?"

"Good, I guess. We chatted for a bit after my shift. I told him I would properly introduce him to you next time you were in town. He lent me this pin for the dress." She got up, showing off the skirt of the dress.

"How nice of him," Santana commented. The white wall behind her shifted oddly.

"Hey, where are you? Are you not in your apartment?" Brittany asked, leaning closer to scrutinize the screen.

She sighed. "I just got off work. I'm on my phone; right outside my apartment. Hang on." There was a rifling on her side of the screen, and there was a sudden knock on Brittany's door.

"One sec, Santana." Brittany got up from the desk and walked towards the door. She talked over her shoulder as she approached the door. "It's probably just one of my neighbors, inviting me to the roof party. It shouldn't take more than a minute-"She pulled open the door, and then stood in silence at the sight outside.

"Surprise?" Santana said softly.

In an unintelligible shriek, Brittany leaped into her arms, hugging her fiercely. "Oh my god. Oh my god. Santana _what_ are you doing here?"

"Spending time with my girl." Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist, pulling her off the ground for a few seconds. "I mean, if I'm not wanted, I could always hop back on the plane or something."

"No!" Brittany let out a breathless laugh. "Just… _how?_"

Santana shrugged noncommittally. "I managed to convince my boss to give me some time off." Brittany raised an eyebrow. "Okay, okay. _Maybe_ I threatened to cut him a new one. Or something. It doesn't matter now, does it?"

Brittany smiled, burrowing her face into Santana's neck again. "No. No it doesn't."

* * *

><p><em>Location: The Plaza Hotel<em>

"Hey Tina? Can I talk to you?" Mike asked nervously as his girlfriend turned away from Blaine.

"Yeah one sec." He waited patiently as Tina finished giving her instructions to the performer. "What's up?" she asked.

He led her outside, to the same balcony they had stood at a year ago. As they leaned against the railing again, he glanced up at the sky for a moment, hesitating.

"You remember what I told you here, last year?" He took her hand gently, feeling the warmth pass between them. Tina only smiled at him beautifully and nodded slowly.

"Well I'd really _really_ like to make good on what I said, if you'll let me." Holding her left hand in both of his, he knelt, glancing up into her eyes.

"Tina," he started, remembering the detailed outline he had written of what he would say to her. "I love you. I've loved you since about the moment we got together and I know I'll continue loving you for far longer. These past seven years have been the most amazing years of my life, and it is honestly all because of you." He brushed his lips over her fingers. "And-"A glint on her hand caught his eye and he came to a startled stop.

Because the engagement ring he bought sat on her finger.

Tina grinned at him mischievously when she saw his shock, pulling him to his feet. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder, kissing his cheek. "You were saying?"

"How did you-"

"The Buddha statue? Not a good hiding place," she said, swaying in his arms. He looked down embarrassedly, and she caught his lips sweetly.

"Why'd you take it though?" he asked when they broke away

"Because silly, I love you. And I would have said yes any day. You could have asked me last year or the year before that or tomorrow and I still would have said yes." She paused. "And I kinda wanted to see how far you would go."

"And how'd I do?"

"Perfect."

* * *

><p>Blaine glanced at the clock on the wall as he finished the last song. 11:25.<p>

"Shit," he muttered, glancing around the room wildly. He needed to find a replacement. And _soon. _He leaped off the stage, scanning the crowd for any potential performers. After he asked a few random strangers, he finally spun around a taller, leather jacket wearing man hanging around the sound system.

"Hey do you sing?" he asked quickly. The man gave a small shrug before nodding.

"Sort of."

Blaine let out a chuckle of relief, pushing the man towards the stage.

"Great, great. Sing anything you want, just make sure you sing 'Auld Lang Syne' at midnight. The guys," he referred to the band members on stage, "know practically anything, so you just tell them, okay?"

"Wait what?" The man's eyes were widened in shock and nervousness, but Blaine could see that he was excited under all that.

"You're covering for me," Blaine explained as if it was obvious. "Just," he gestured frantically with his hands, "sing." He shrugged and hopped off the stage again. He raced off, grabbing his coat from a chair and shrugging it on as he inclined his head towards Artie, who grudgingly nodded back.

* * *

><p>"Mercedes!" Sam called, rushing towards the girl.<p>

"I told you Sam. Leave me alone." She walked towards a serving girl, picking up a martini.

"Please just listen to me." He finally caught up to her, catching her arms and spinning her towards him. "Please."

"I don't think we have anything to say to each other, Sam." She shook his arms off her and took a few steps back. "What we had was a high school fling, nothing else."

"We dated for over a year. I don't think you can call that a 'fling'." He stepped closer to her. "Please, 'Cedes. I just want to talk. That's all."

Mercedes stared at him evenly. "Fine," she said, taking another step back. "Let's talk."

He shoved his hands into his pocket, staring at the ground embarrassedly. "I just wanted to say that… I'm sorry for not trying." His voice had gone soft. "For just letting you go off to California and not trying to follow you… or anything." He took a step closer, raising his eyes to Mercedes. She had lost the angry, annoyed look, but was still guarded. "And if you'll let me," he gently gripped her shoulders, "I'd really like to… try again."

"I can't," she said, removing his hand. When he started to protest, she held up a hand. "I have a boyfriend. And I really like him."

Sam looked downfallen. "Oh, okay. Um… I'll just…. Leave you alone. Or something." He took a step back, but Mercedes shot out a hand to stop him.

"I'm not finished," she said. He looked at her hopefully, and she smiled. "What if we're just friends, okay? Just friends."

"Cool. Friends. That's cool." Sam tried not to look so eager. Her smile grew and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

"Just so you know," he whispered, hugging her back. "I'll fight for you."

She just stepped back and laughed. "We'll see."

* * *

><p>"You better get ready for 'Auld Lang Syne' soon," Jeff, one of the band members, mentioned to Puck as they took their last break.<p>

Puck nodded, pulling out his phone to glance at the lyrics. The crowd had surprisingly been okay with the sudden change, if a little surprised. In any case, Puck hadn't been pulled of the stage as of yet, so he figured that that was a good thing. Stepping back onto the stage, he waited for Artie to wheel himself over to lead the countdown. He handed the mike down the wheelchair-bound man, who began a short speech.

"So it looks like we're on the final minute now, guys," Artie said, glancing at his watch. He raised his glass. "I would like to have a last toast, in honor of the new year. May it bring you all joy and peace and awesome music." There was a sound of clinking glasses around the room as a few people began cheering.

"And I'd like to invite you all to join me in counting down the last ten seconds of the year," Artie prompted as the room began to chant.

_10… 9… 8… 7… _

Puck took a deep breath, readying himself.

_6…5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Happy New Year!_

The room erupted in noise as everyone began to cheer in earnest, pulling in their respective partners for the annual kiss. Puck signaled to the band behind him, and the opening bars of 'Auld Lang Syne' blasted from the sound systems.

As Puck began singing, Artie leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over themselves, his mind turning. He rolled over to where Tina was giggling with Mike and flashing off her engagement ring.

"Tina!" he called out.

"Yeah boss?" she asked, her face instantly turning business- like.

"That guy." He pointed towards Puck. "I want a full name and a phone number. Set up a meeting with him."

* * *

><p><em>Location: 224 West 20<em>_th__ Street; Café Grumpy. Time: 12:17 AM_

Blaine sighed dejectedly as the coffee shop patrons quickly began leaving, emptying the building incredibly fast. He walked outside, surveying the remnants of the celebration. A few people muttered New Year's greetings to him, but he couldn't respond with much more than fake cheer. Glancing at his watch a last time, he looked back at the coffee shop again before starting to walk down the street, intent of finding a bar to drown his sorrows in as fast as he could.

The sound of running feet reached his ears, and he stopped suddenly. He held his breath hopefully as he turned. His eyes met those of another man's, dressed impeccably from head to toe in a bright silver suit. Arms wrapped around his neck and lips met his and _oh_. His brain shut off as he felt a familiar body pressed up against him again, even after a whole year.

"You're late…" he trailed off when they broke away, prompting the man for a name.

"Kurt," he replied breathlessly, smiling widely.

"You're late, Kurt," Blaine chuckled, pulling him closer.

Kurt nuzzled his nose against Blaine's. "Well it takes time to look this good."

"You had a whole year," Blaine reminded him.

Kurt grinned wryly at him, not answering. Their lips met again as fireworks were set off by a few party-goers on the roof. Neither one could shake the feeling that it was going to be a good year.

**Happy New Year's everyone! **

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**Review?**


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